


War

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 09:06:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have a very loving, kind relationship with Michael. Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War

You roll over in the bed, reach out for the empty spot in the bed. You frown and open your eyes, seeking out the Jersey boy. Of course, he’s not there, already at work, but in his stead is a little note on the pillow. You drag it over and flip onto your back, holding it up to read it.

_Faggot._

_  
_That’s it. You flip it over but that’s the only thing written on there. You actually let out a little sound of a laugh, dropping it back on his pillow. You get up and get ready for work, almost forgetting the little paper.

Just as you enter your bedroom an hour later to get your wallet and leave, you spy the tiny note again. Grinning, you pocket the slip and trot down the hall to the kitchen, rip a post-it note off the cube. 

‘ **COCKBITE**.’ 

Pleased, you grip it tight as you leave for work. You stop by the office and stick it to the door, knowing full well he’d know it was for him right off the bat. And with that, you head off to work.

———

That night you enter the apartment, calling out Michael’s name. He responds with a non-committal grunt and you find him planted in front of the TV playing something. You swoop down for a kiss, which he protests that you’re blocking. So you just cover his face in kisses until he laughs and pushes you off, waving you away. Before you pull away, he tugs your shirt so he can return your first kiss then shoves you off again. 

You use this to turn around and head to the bedroom, collecting your most comfortable clothing and stepping into the bathroom. You turn the handle to hot and drop your clothes on the floor.

Halfway through your shower, you reach for the soap and feel a weird grip. You turn the bar over and grin at the little paper staring up at you.

‘ _Dickweed.’_

 _  
_Oh. It’s war.

—-

The night continues as such. ‘ **Bitchface’**  on his beer bottle. ‘ _Whoremonger_ ' in your sandwich. ' **Twat.** ' on his side of the couch. ' _Shithead.’_ taped to your hairbrush. _  
_

‘ **Fucker McToolfag’**  pressed to his forehead.

He tackles you, plowing both of you onto the bed, glaring from overtop of you. You grin innocently, and you both have to break face to laugh. 

"Truce?" He offers, eyebrows raised. You ponder this for a second, and nod. You put your hands on his hips, lean forward to kiss him.

And flip him over, dropping him on the floor.

"Truce."


End file.
